


Like Roses and Clover

by LupusScintilla (inkandblade)



Series: Bubblegum [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Canonical Character Death mentioned, Dubious use of Herbal Lore, F/M, Grown Up Lovelies, Halloween, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mates, Minor Laura Hale/Lydia Martin, Mischief Stilinski, Not Beta Read, Omega Derek Hale, Scenting, Slice of Life, Song fic, Werewolf Derek Hale, destined mates, mate marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 14:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandblade/pseuds/LupusScintilla
Summary: Derek bit at his lip and extended a fang to stop himself from thinking about it again. There were others in the villages around that he might like far better, but, ever since the first morning he’d woken up with the mate-mark on his arm, he’d promised himself that he’d not think about what kind of Mate he would favor, what kind of person he might enjoy spending the rest of his life with.





	Like Roses and Clover

Derek sat back on his heels and looked at the arrangement he’d made at the front of the hearth. Everything seemed to be where it should. The five apples he’d picked in the morning and sat on the windowsill until dusk were arranged to form a semicircle around him. Inside the arc he’d laid out rosemary and mugwort for clarity, thyme for affection, lavender for devotion, and finally aconite to appease the Gods. The mug of spiced cider had been warmed and re-sweetened five times, and despite it not being tradition, he’d added the spices over and over again, too; his mother had liked it that way, and he hoped that with it he’d gain her as his Guide this night. He’d baked five loaves of bread and five honey cakes, and that, he realized, was what was missing.

He needed a knife that would slice through what he’d cooked so they were ready to be offered in his dreams. He stood and turned just as there was a knock on the door of his room.

“Are you ready, Derek? Do you need any help?”

Laura’s voice was muffled through the wood, but he could hear her excitement. It was calmer now that Cora had finally gone to bed. Their younger sister wasn’t too young to understand that today was important for Derek — _“I know he’s supposed to pick them, but I could go and get more herbs, just in case.” “Do you think his Alpha would like more honey with the bread?” “What if they don’t like apples?”_ — but still not old enough to understand just what tonight’s sleep should bring Derek.

Laura knocked softly again, and pushed the door open an inch. “Are you okay? Can I come in, or…?” She was, likely, as nervous as he. She was the village’s youngest Alpha Head, and not only was Derek likely to find his match tonight, Laura might wake to find she had the urge to visit an Omega or Beta who had wooed her in her dreams.

“I’m fine,” he answered, finally. “I was about to come out, I forgot the—”

Laura’s hand snaked around the corner with their large knife, and her head followed it. “I thought, maybe?” Even in just the glow from the candles and fire he could see that her cheeks were red, and her forehead was creased. “You wouldn’t want him going hungry in your dreams.”

Derek huffed at her. “My Alpha might not be a he. They might not even be an Alpha.” He hoped not, anyway. There were nice Alphas in this village and those around, but there were also complete idiots, and the ratio of horrid to bearable was better amongst the unmatched Betas. Derek was obstinately refusing to acknowledge the fact that no Omega had been matched with a Beta in living memory. It had happened in the past, and it therefore it might happen to him. A Beta meant no Aiden or Ethan or Jackson. A Beta might mean Scott or Liam, though, but they weren’t as unappealing as the other three. They were also a year or two younger, though, and thus less likely to be matched to Derek.

He bit at his lip and extended a fang to stop himself from thinking about it again. There were others in the villages around that he might like far better, but, ever since the first morning he’d woken up with the mate-mark on his arm, he’d promised himself that he’d not think about what kind of Mate he would favor, what kind of person he might enjoy spending the rest of his life with. That way lay disappointment and envy. At least if he only considered the bad possibilities, he’d be prepared for the worst the Gods might give him.

Laura, though Derek could see she did not agree with him, and was still clinging to the prediction their Alpha mother had made years before the fire had claimed her and the rest of their family, now held her tongue. He was glad. Derek didn’t want to think that he might fail his mother, and he did not want to think that he might not be dream-guided by her, or perhaps their father, or one of his lost siblings.

Derek took the knife and did not step away when his sister cupped his jaw and rubbed her palm down over his neck. She leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “You should sleep, then, brother. You have an important journey, and—” she sucked in a hard breath and Derek could, finally, smell the sorrow around her—“best wishes to give from both myself and Cora to whomever it is who will guide you in your dreams tonight.”

Derek nodded as much as he could given they were still pressed skin to skin, and swallowed the whine that would have otherwise risen in his throat. “I promise.”

She pulled away so that there was just enough space for her to kiss his forehead and whispered, “The Gods have much kindness to share, and we are all due our measure. Sleep well, Derek.” She turned and slipped back out of the room, pulling the door quietly behind her.

Derek stood a moment on the spot, then noticed the weight of the knife in his hand. He needed to complete his preparations.

He doused the candles near the door and the one next to his bed, then sat back on the floor, placing the knife inside the arc he’d made. He tucked his legs underneath himself and put his back as straight as he could make it and breathed out. He laid his hands palm down on his thighs.

He’d always spoken to the Gods in whispers, but tonight he tried to be bolder, more welcoming.

“I, Derek, Omega, proclaim all before me as given freely and offered without expectation.”

The Gods had the right to deny him his wishes, or a Mate at all, but Derek hoped they would, as Laura had said, be kind.

He lifted both hands from his legs and reached with one to a loaf of the bread and the other to the knife. He sliced as cleanly as he could from the end. He placed the knife back where it had been, and took a small bite from the bread. He chewed it well, and considered the flavors and texture and all that it was. He swallowed, and placed the rest of the slice back with the loaf. Next, he cut a piece off one of the honey cakes the same way, and took a bite. He tried not to wince at just how sweet it was—it was not something he enjoyed outside of his heats— and swallowed. He returned the uneaten portion to next to the whole.

He breathed out long and felt his whole body shiver. He closed his eyes and swallowed again, gripping onto his legs.

Opening his eyes, he leaned over the offerings and used the side of his finger to drag out a few cold ashes from the edge of the fire. He scooped them up and put them on the hearth, inside the arc. He used a claw to cut the inside of the opposite finger and dripped it into the ash. The paste it made was thick and dry, but it would serve its purpose; he marked each apple in turn with it, the end of each loaf and cake, and then made certain it was on at least two or three leaves of each of the plants. The wolfsbane tingled against his skin.

He ran his hands through his hair so that none of the blood and ash touched the floor again, and then he drank, swallowing a small mouthful of the cider and hoping that the mixture would not upset his stomach so much that he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

♠

Derek woke, or at least he thought he did. The room was dark still, except for the light of the fading fire. It smelled like the thick, green grass under the line where they hung their clothes to dry.

“Good evening, Derek Hale.”

He jumped, even though he was under the bed clothes, and likely flashed his eyes. He hoped he hadn't popped claws and ripped his sheets, Laura wouldn’t be happy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, child. I thought you could already see me.”

Derek turned towards the sound of the voice now, confused. He couldn’t smell another person in the room, only the flowers and leaves. He glanced at the hearth and saw that nothing had moved or been taken, then, finally, looked at the owner of the voice.

She was young. Still, older than Laura by four or five winters at least. She had pale skin and dark hair, but not as pale or dark as his own. The color of her eyes were hard to see in the light, but they were large and round and, as much as can be said for an intruder in an Omega’s room, kind.

“I’ve come at your call.” She nodded to his offering, and he noticed that the slice of honey cake he’d taken a bite from had been further eaten.

But, she was not. He shook his head. “I don’t know you. You’ve,” he swallowed and hoped he sounded sure, “You’ve followed the wrong call.”

The wide smile she’d been wearing faded. “You were hoping for your own mother, yes?” She looked at the hearth and back at him. “I’m sure she’s proud of what you’ve laid out. Any mother would be.”

Derek focused on keeping his claws in and his eyes dry. “Then why…?” He wasn’t certain how he should say it.

“It’s too soon for her to be the one to guide you, Derek Hale. Your family has not been in the realm beyond for long enough to be able to find their way back if they’d visited you tonight.” Derek blinked and felt tears starting to well. “I’m sorry. They wanted to, but it’s not allowed.”

Derek understood. It made sense, even if it was not what he wanted to hear. “I. Do they…”

“Of course they do. They miss you. They will never stop missing you, just as you will never stop missing them. They’re sorry they couldn’t be with you to discover your mate-mark, or tomorrow.”

Derek sat up a little in his bed, but stayed under the covers. “Tomorrow?”

She smiled again now, as wide as before, but brighter. “When your mate-mark will fade to black, of course.”

The Gods had granted Derek a Mate, and they would look upon each other as such for the first time tomorrow. Though he’d never truly doubted it, there had a few moments when he’d thought he may be alone a long time.

His relief, even if it was tempered with the idea it might be someone he didn’t like, must have shown on his face.

Her eyes were wide. “Did you fear you’d wouldn’t be matched, Derek Hale?” She took a half step closer. “You are a beautiful, giving, and kind Omega. Your heart is pure and your mind is quick. You’ll make a fine Mate. He’s very fortunate.”

Derek’s heart, encouraged by the fact that the Gods had deemed him worthy, now sank. He had, despite his protestations to his sister, decided quite quickly after his mate-mark manifested that his Mate would be a man. Other than Laura, there weren’t any unmated Alpha women in their village, and not many in the ones around. There were a few Beta women, but whereas an Omega matching to a Beta male was rare, an Omega matching to a Beta female was unheard of. While being able to avoid the clutches of one such as Kate or Jennifer was a good thing, the other options…

The apparition, if that’s what she was, took a full step closer this time. If Derek was to sit up and swing his legs out of the bed, he’d be able to reach over and touch what there was of her. “Do you know who I am?”

He had no words, so he simply shook his head.

“You were very young when I passed over. My son was, too. You used to play together, all of your sisters and brothers, too.” Her eyes were shining. “When my family lost me, my husband took my boy and went back to the village he’d grown up in so his parents could help, and so that he wouldn’t have to be near where he’d lost his Mate.” She walked past Derek and laid her hand, as it was, on the window sill. She turned back and said, “No one else would live in the cottage I’d died in either. It stood empty until it was needed rather than just wanted. This room is where my boy slept. I’m glad it’s now your home.”

Memories suddenly woke in Derek’s mind of the time she was speaking of. He remembered her warm voice and the sound of her laughter. He remembered her husband’s patience with little ‘Wolf claws and teeth, and the way that despite not having them himself, that he, as well as Derek’s mother, had smiled and let all the children climb on them and play.

Derek remembered his own father, young and happy, round with another child inside his belly. He remembered a boy that was not one of his brothers, wide-eyed and wondrous, kissing at Derek’s father’s stomach and sitting and talking to the baby that was waiting inside.

“He’s…?”

She sighed, long and fine. “Yes, he is. Your memories of him are still who he is today.” She walked back and sat on the edge of the bed, though Derek did not feel it dip. “The village his father is from is usually two days journey on foot. He’ll take the whole day to reach you, but I did not lie when I said your mate-mark will fade tomorrow. Don’t be disheartened when he doesn’t immediately appear.” She watched her hand as she ran her palm over the blanket and then plucked at it to make it smooth. “My Mischief will be here for you, that I know.”

Mischief, the boy with the name no one could say.

“I will wait.”

She lifted her hand as if to reach out and touch his face, but turned her own to the window instead. She looked back and said, “I’m very, very glad to hear your truthfulness in that, Derek Hale.” She stood and glanced back out of the window again, only turning back after a full twenty-second count. “I’ve stayed too long. I’m being summoned to return.” She stepped back from the bed and Derek thought she was going to trip over the offerings, but her bare feet simply melted into them. She looked at what she was standing on. “You’ve chosen well. He’ll eat as many honey cakes as you can make, and the thyme and lavender will be more than honored with my child as your Alpha.” There were tears in her eyes when she lifted them again. “Please tell him that I love him, and his father. I miss every moment I’m not with him. I will watch over the children you have together.” The wetness was on her cheeks now. “Your family all love you and your sisters, Derek Hale. They will be watching out for you, and Laura and Cora, too.”

The last word faded, and in a blink, though Derek had tried hard not to, Mama Stilinski, as he now remembered calling her, was gone.

♠

The sun was warm on Derek’s face when he woke. He blinked at the open shutters. He remembered closing them for privacy before he’d begun the ritual, but also that his Guide had looked out through them as she spoke.

Derek rolled over quickly and looked at the hearth. It was as he’d left it, but not.

The apple at the top of the arc had been sliced in two and one half was missing. The mug that had held the ritual cider was on its side, but there was no evidence that any liquid had spilled from it. The cut bread and honey cake were half-gone, just like the apple. The herbs were missing, though… He looked into the now extinguished fire and saw that they’d been tossed on it as it died.

The knife point was facing east, towards the border road that lead in the direction Papa Stilinski had gone with his son after his Mate had passed away.

Derek followed an imaginary line from the knife’s tip, out through the window and over the trees and realized that the sun was already high. He’d slept long, and deep, if Cora’s morning habits hadn’t stirred him from his bed.

Slipping his feet out from under the covers and onto the mat at the side of his bed, he pulled on his wrapper and he pushed his feet into his house shoes. The morning was warm, but not warm enough for his feet to feel comfortable against the hard stone surface of the floor.

He wondered, a moment, if he should collect the left offerings and take them with him, but he decided that if his Guide was right, he’d have all day to tend to such things. He had no reason to doubt her, even if his heart was heavy with the responsibility of telling his sisters he’d not been able to pass messages to their parents.

He turned the handle carefully and pushed the door open, just a little, and listened. There was no obvious sound. The house was far too still for the day to be an ordinary one.

Cora was sitting at the table with a book, moving her finger along under the line to help her read. She blinked at him and her mouth curved up at both ends.

“Good morning, Derek! I’m so glad you’re awake finally.” She flipped back a few pages and tapped her finger near the top of the book. “I don’t understand this word, but before she left, Laura told me I shouldn’t wake you, so I’ve been waiting to ask you when you came out.” She looked happy, but smelled frustrated and little worried.

Derek held his tongue away from the question he really wanted to ask—where exactly Laura was that she wasn’t here to help Cora herself—and looked over Cora’s shoulder at where she was pointing. “It’s a fine word for you to be learning this morning, if you’ve truly been waiting that many pages to ask me.” He waved at where she was holding the book open. “It reads _patience_. There are a lot of difficult sounding letter combinations in it, I’m not surprised you had to ask.”   

Cora’s scent changed to something a little warmer, and her expression softened. “Oh! The sentence makes much more sense now. I,” she slipped her reading ribbon in the book and closed it, and pushed it away. “Did you dream well?”

It was not the question it would be if Laura had asked it. “I did, yes.” He took a step closer. She was too young, then, to remember the Stilinskis well, but. “Do you remember when we came to this cottage?”

Cora nodded and she pressed her lips together.

“It was dirty and dusty, and we had to clean it for days, yes?” He sat next to his little sister and took one of her hands. “It was like that because no one had lived in it for years. The family who were here before then? Their mama died, and they were sad, so left here for some place else. We were lucky they did, though, ‘cause it meant we had somewhere to come when we didn’t have a place to stay.” Cora was watching him now the way she watched Laura when she worked in the garden, or Derek when he was cooking: absorbing every fact she could. “My dreams were well because their mama, the one who died? She was my Guide.”

“To lead you to your mate-match,” Cora said, nodded at the idea as one she’d come to understand over the last week or two. She’d learned as the town had been a buzz with unmatched Omegas collecting herbs and fruit and honey, and their Alpha and Beta counterparts collecting their belongings and readying themselves to leave—just in case.

“Yes.”

“So, she took you to him?” Cora had slid forward on her seat, trying to come closer to the answer.

Derek was glad for her enthusiasm. “Not exactly.” He reached out and pushed a thread of her hair behind her ear. “She told me who he was, though. She told me that even though I’ve not seen him since you were a snuffling babe, he’d be coming here to me today. He and his father have lived in a village almost two days journey from here since they left this town,” he looked around to the corners of the room they were sat in, “and this house. He knows where he’s coming.”

Cora put both of her hands on the tabletop now. She held one out towards him, as if to catch the words she was about to say and show him. “So, he’s coming here, to be your Alpha?” She laid the other hand out, away from the other and towards the door, but still ready to display the words like that other. “And Laura has gone to see Miss Lydia, to be her new Alpha? So…” Her brow crinkled, and Derek, fascinated by the idea that Laura would finally be mate-matched so many years after her mark had developed, almost missed the way Cora’s brow wrinkled and her scent soured. “Where will I—”

Derek put his hand in her closest one. “I don’t know, Cor. It might be here. It might be in another cottage. It might be with me, and it might be with Laura. It might be with us both.” He lifted her hand, now grasping his hard, and kissed her knuckles. “You are our sister, and we love you, and the Gods know that we would never abandon you. Understand?”

“I love you both, too.” Her voice was small, but he could hear that she believed him, and her skin smelled like her happy-self again.

“Good. Now. Have you eaten enough this morning? I know I slept late, and I’m sorry. Did you and Laura eat before she left?”

He had no idea if Laura would be coming back today or even tomorrow. Lydia’s family only lived on the other side of the village, so it wasn’t a truly worrisome thing either way. Although, Derek thought as he finally went back to his hearth to gather the food from there, he didn’t know what would happen if she didn’t before Derek’s Mischief Stilinski arrived. Laura had thought well enough to put food in their little sister’s mouth and tell her to stay put, but she likely started to lose her focus soon after; an Alpha with the urge to find their Mate simply heads in that direction. She’d done well to manage as much as she had before the need to leave had become too much.

They hadn’t considered that the two of them might have mate-matches on the same day. Newly mated couples tended to, well. There were things Derek didn’t even want to think about in front of his younger, innocent sister. He certainly didn’t want to partake in them for the first time with only a wall between Cora and the act. He had until probably sundown, at least. Melissa McCall, no matter what had become of her Scott today, would likely be happy to take Cora for the evening, if not a few. The day’s wait would be a long one, but Derek could find plenty of mundane things to fill it with if needs be; a trip to the McCall’s cottage would make a nice distraction amongst it all.

♠

Derek had considered checking in on Laura on her way back from the McCall’s—Scott had gone that morning, with a travel sack slung over his shoulder, to one town over. The young beta’s mother was happy to have Cora to look after in his stead—but the fact that Lydia’s parents were in front of their neighbor’s house drinking ale in the afternoon dissuaded Derek soundly. They had the audacity to look at him sideways as he passed, as if it was his fault that his older sister was likely thoroughly defiling their only daughter as they supped in the afternoon sun. He’d nodded politely as he walked by, and hummed to himself so he couldn’t hear any comments they might make as he passed.

He tidied the cottage, washed all the sheets, and picked what he could from the garden for lunch. He barely managed to keep it down. He put the beds back in order. He tried, and failed, to read a book.

_Don’t be disheartened when he doesn’t immediately appear. My Mischief will be here for you, that I know._

Derek had heard his Guide, and wanted to believe, but… The sun was starting to set. The village Papa Stilinski had hailed from, and then returned to, was, Derek thought, not really a full two-days’ walk. Most people would take that long so they didn’t have to leave until after sun-up proper, and then didn’t have to walk while they only had the stars to light their way.

The moon would be full tonight, as it almost been the night before. Derek’s mate-match would have it to light the way, at least. Derek remembered again that Papa Stilinski was human—any baby-’Wolf-claw scratches he got when playing with the children took a day or two to heal—but he had no memory of if Mama Stilinski was, too. Derek could be happy with a Mate who was ‘Wolf or human or otherwise; as long as he was kind.

Derek considered the thyme he had on the window sill for cooking, and at the lavender Cora had put around the walls because she liked the way it made their home smell. Laura had looked at him with amusement, but not teased, when he’d chosen them for his ritual. Affection and devotion were heavy requests of the Gods, and he’d hesitated a little, watching as many others had hunted instead for choices such as red clover and nettles. Derek had not want to doubt his own fertility, though. He’d even seen one or two Betas searching for Goatweed and Ginko. He shook that idea off now, as he had when he saw them looking. He doubted that any Alpha or Beta would need to be encouraged to perform the physical act required for mating.

Derek breathed in again and the scent of the herbs reinforced his conviction. He knew what he wanted in a Mate, and there had been no harm in attempting to express that to the Gods. Now, here, combined with the familiar notes of home, the smell of them was comforting.

The space would be better, and more attractive to visitors of course, if it was warmer. He made his way through all the rooms in the cottage, checking that all the shutters were closed, then came back to the main one and stoked the fire and felt the temperature rise just a little. He considered trying to cook something else to while away the time.

If Derek had not been standing in front of the flames, senses muddled by the smoke in his nose and yet another attempt to distract himself, he’d have smelled the Alpha at the door before there was a rapping sound.

He jumped at the noise, and almost dropped the poker. His voice cracked when he called out, “Just a moment.”

He rubbed his hands down his apron and managed to undo it without resorting to slicing around the place where it was tied. He stood, a second, an arms length from the door, and hoped that the Alpha on the other side wasn’t a ‘Wolf, as he’d surely be going dizzy with the rate Derek’s heart was beating.

Derek breathed in and was hit again, as he had been in his dream, with the scent of the lawn under the line where they hung their clothes to dry—the Alpha shared that scent with his mother, or maybe she’d only had in Derek’s dream as her son smelled that way. There was also a strong sense of fresh roses, just in bloom.

Derek felt his body react to the underlying scent of an unmated, unclaimed, and already very worked-up Alpha. He swallowed and hoped. He reached out and opened the door towards himself, putting the wood between his own body and,

The man had his mother’s eyes, “Derek?” and a voice deep as they were warm. He was taller than Derek, by an inch or two, and he wore his hair short, but not as close to his scalp as some Alphas.

The thick scent, of want and need and sweat from a day walking with all the speed that a healthy, young Alpha’s legs would lend, hit Derek now, so much more than the clover and roses. “I,” he had no idea what to call the man other than the name his guide had used, “Mischief.”

The Alpha blinked, and his voice was even less sure when his made his mouth into the shape to say, “Oh.” His scent went bitter, then rich and sweet again.

Derek had, until the dream, expected he’d be bowled off his feet by an Alpha he knew, possibly pushed onto the nearest flat surface and physically claimed. He’d expected a Mate he’d know from everyday life, and that there would be much less of a need to speak before...

He was glad there was no one else here to see them flounder. He stepped back and brought the door with him, and the Alpha stepped inside, nostrils flaring, but eyes not flashing; he was not a shifter. Mischief let his swag, far larger than the one Laura had prepared, slip off his shoulders and rolled them a few times to stretch.

He wiped off his hands on his pants, perhaps to dislodge dust from the road, and pushed up his sleeve on the left one. Then, with a small smile on his arm and slight hesitancy in his movement, extended it to show Derek the mark that looked like red ink splashed across the inside of his forearm, about two inches up from his wrist. As expected, it was not the same shape, but had the same tone and placement as Derek’s, though his was on the right.

Derek reached out his, too, and watched a moment, fascinated, as the leading edge started to change color before his eyes. He looked up, and saw that the Alpha’s was the same. Derek lifted his arm a little more, stretching it closer and then the Alpha was two steps closer, and their marks were black all through.

“I,” Mischief started, “I want. Can I…” He stretched his fingers out wide and Derek decided that if this man had walked all day for him, he could at least close the gap now. Their fingertips touched and the scent of want amplified, and Derek had to hold himself back from burying his face into the space above the Alpha’s collar. Mischief smiled, catching where Derek’s gaze had wandered. “I remember so little from when I lived here before, but even if I didn’t remember clearly that the Hales were ‘Wolves, your eyes, and where they linger, now make it plain for me to see.” He twisted his wrist quickly and laid his fingers over the outside of Derek’s, and stepped closer as his lifted their hands higher. “I know we’ll have Bites to show our bond, but...” he pressed Derek’s palm against the skin of his throat, and Derek could feel his pulse as well as hear it. “I want you to mark me well, with scent too, and I know, even if I don’t have your nose, that I want everyone who does to know you’re mine, too, even if they’re on the other side of the village.”

Derek couldn’t help the sound he made as Mischief rubbed his chin, and then his cheek into Derek’s palm. He couldn’t help the way his body reacted to the tender attention either. He’d not ever, outside his heats, felt as wet as he did now. Mischief, despite his statements about not having a ‘Wolf’s nose, still had an Alpha’s, and it flared once more. Derek breathed in hard and let himself concentrate on their scents mixing for the first time; it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, and he wondered if it would always be so heady, or if it was just as it was so new.

Derek ran his thumb across the Alpha’s cheek, and then back towards his mouth. The scent of Mischief’s arousal thickened even more. Derek shouldn’t, and wouldn’t, delay this any longer. The Alpha hadn’t, like many others might of, simply taken what he wanted, what his body was demanding of them. Derek pressed the pad of his thumb against the Alpha’s, _his Alpha’s_ , lips. He moved in closer and replaced it with a light kiss, then started slowly taking half-steps backwards towards his door and the bed behind it.

His Alpha followed him.

♠

**Author's Note:**

> As writers we often use the A/B/O gender spectrum/designations to reflect or comment on gender and sexuality in the real world, but sometimes we fuck up when we do. If anything in this fic is offensive or triggering, it is not my intention. I’ve tried to tag as best I can; please let me know if I’ve missed anything.
> 
> Please note: Derek refers to Stiles as Mischief because that's what he remembers from his childhood, and what Stiles' mother called him when she appeared as Derek's Guide. I didn't actually decide how much younger Cora is than her brother and sister, but I'd put Stiles at the same age as Scott, so one or two years less than Derek. This idea was originally conceived as a way to fill the Halloween tag for Sterek Week 2017, and thus is set on the night of October 31, and that's why the dead can come to guide the living (and why it's tagged as such).
> 
> This piece of Bubblegum was inspired by Mr Sandman - The Chordettes: [Lyrics](https://www.oldielyrics.com/lyrics/the_chordettes/mr_sandman.html), [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VNUgsbKisp8).
> 
> Find me on my (very NSFW) [Tumblr](https://inkandblade.tumblr.com/).


End file.
